


To Hold Infinity in the Palm of Your Hand

by Caedus501



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe of Alternate Universes, Dubious Science, Gen, M/M, POV Ascended Beings, Quantum Mechanics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-18 18:29:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16522376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caedus501/pseuds/Caedus501
Summary: With no one to help him, the man called John Sheppard draws out a coin and leaves the decision up to chance.It is curious to us that he must use a coin at all.  With or without it, the probabilities exist.  We suppose the coin is a simple manifestation of all that we see in the decision that rests before John Sheppard.  But we know what he does not.  The choice is not as binary as the use of a two-sided coin would have him believe.  The futures change as the coin moves through the air.  Each revolution both reveals and eliminates a new set of probabilities for the future of John Sheppard and everyone he will come to interact with.





	To Hold Infinity in the Palm of Your Hand

**Author's Note:**

> I have appropriated various concepts of quantum physics for the purposes of storytelling. I am claiming artistic license and begging your indulgence.

There are rules for us. 

We can only watch from afar. We cannot interfere.

For the most part this is not a troubling injunction.  There is a countless number of universes and they are vast.  They blossom and change and fall away in a never ceasing dance so that we never lack for anything to watch.

At times, however, and there is no telling the how long the spans between them are for time means nothing when all things are happening at once, but there are moments when we get too close to what we are observing.  It becomes difficult to hold the juxtaposition of our non-linear existence with your own concept of time and causality in our minds as we watch. 

We forget that you do not see the probabilities.

***

In Antarctica a man is offered a choice.

“It’s rare that we see such a strong expression of the ATA gene.  You’d be a great asset to us on this expedition, Major Sheppard.”

“You do realize if you step through the gate you’re going to be in another galaxy with no guaranteed trip back home.  It’ll be alien sunrises and MREs until you either die of starvation or get killed by hostile sentient moss.  Most likely.”  A shrug is offered.  Then a smile.  “Or maybe you end up married to some alien princess and become king of your own planet. Like I said, no guarantee.”

“I don’t care what you do, but do it somewhere else.  I’m busy.”

The man has no metric for making a decision of this scale.  He’s lived all over the world as part of his military service, but he’s never been offworld, let alone offworld in a different galaxy.  With no one to help him, the man called John Sheppard draws out a coin and leaves the decision up to chance.

It is curious to us that he must use a coin at all.  With or without it, the probabilities exist.  We suppose the coin is a simple manifestation of all that we see in the decision that rests before John Sheppard.  But we know what he does not.  The choice is not as binary as the use of a two-sided coin would have him believe.  The futures change as the coin moves through the air.  Each revolution both reveals and eliminates a new set of probabilities for the future of John Sheppard and everyone he will come to interact with.

The coin is tossed.

The coin turns.

If Sheppard were to pause the coin’s motion right here in its upward trajectory and make his decision based on the side facing up he would go to Atlantis, our lost city at the depths of the ocean.  He looks at the Ancient architecture in awe and wonder and feels as though he recognizes the curve of the walls and the color of the light as it passes through the stained glass windows above the gate room. On his first mission through the gate to another planet he is one of the first victims from his home galaxy to fall prey to the Wraith.  He will never even know the species of the creature that drained the life from his body.  The rest of the Atlantis expedition begins to flounder without someone who has an instinctive feel for the technology that surrounds them.

At the apex of the coin’s arc the disc hovers motionless for an instant.  The decision made based on its upward face at this point would have Sheppard decline the offer to go to Atlantis.  He is not quite relieved, but he is certainly not indifferent to the notion of staying somewhere known to him.  He is comfortable in his life for all that he has been exiled to these frozen wastes.  When the expedition leaves and he is no longer wanted to test the reactions of Ancient technology, he returns to his regular commission with a high recommendation from General Jack O’Neill and an order to never speak of what he saw ever again.  In this reality John Sheppard retires some twenty years later as a full bird Colonel and lives out his days in a small beach house on the California coast.  He is plagued by the question “What if I had gone?” and as a result has not slept properly in nearly two decades.

Because this moment has and has not yet and is always happening, we already know that in at least one of the many universes where the coin revolves through the cold Antarctic air, one of us interferes.  It is an accident, but the damage is done.  We knew this moment to be somehow more significant than the trillions upon trillions of others that we could observe, and wanted to be closer to see it as it plays out.  Before the coin can come to rest on the palm of Sheppard’s hand, he notices something strange about the air around him.  His attention is deflected and he makes a scan of the room for something he will never be able to see.  He can feel us though.  He knows he is being watched.

Someone enters the room through a door and demands his answer.  It is Dr. Elizabeth Weir, who, in this universe as in many others, is to lead the Atlantis Expedition.  Sheppard looks at the coin now on the ground and sees that it came up tails. He gives her his answer.

“No, thanks.  It sounds like something I should probably have experience for and frankly I still don’t have a good idea of what it is you people do here.” 

In this reality Sheppard doesn’t go to Atlantis, but he does stay with the SGC.  He is introduced to an entirely new side of the world that he did not know existed.  There are missions through the stargate, the chance to pilot an F-305 or two, and endless trips to science labs to test Ancient tech.  It does not last long though. 

When the Ori come to the Milky Way and Earth, John Sheppard is sent to fight them.  He is killed along with countless others.  A note is made in his file and the world moves on.

If we had not gotten so close, the probability density spike for this reality would never even have existed.  Instead this outcome will echo throughout all probabilities and change the resulting distributions.  There are consequences when we interfere whether by choice or by mistake.  Now Sheppard has less futures that do not fold into one another leaving a wave function equal to one.

All of this happens and more. 

The coin turns.

Sheppard joins the Atlantis expedition.  When he passes through the gate the city lights up for him in greeting and hums with delight that someone it recognizes as one of its builders has finally returned.  But he also kills a Queen and wakes the Wraith from their slumber. 

There is much uncertainty in his future, but at the moment the probability that he will live is positive.

***

When the probability density of the wave function is equal to one it means your future is fixed, the wave collapses and you become nothing.

And everything.

It is significant that the solution for corporeal death is not zero, but rather one.  One is the identity number.  Multiply or divide by one and the result is what you started with. Right side up, upside down, the number one is the same.  That is what it means to be _identical_.  Like the elementary particles that make up the matter of the universes, one spin-up electron is indistinguishable from another.  Were all such particles in a plant to be swapped around it would not matter, the plant would still be the same.  Carbon would still be carbon. 

We have found that this is a disconcerting concept for our descendants.  On every planet in every galaxy in every universe, the people decry their individuality, their uniqueness, but at the very core, each atom that makes up the flesh is identical, is _indistinguishable_ from the one next to it that is of the same type.  Which means that the oxygen atoms in one body could exchange places with the oxygen atoms in another body and nothing would change.  Humanity would continue.  It is therefore not the flesh that matters, but the mind, the consciousness. It is why we Ascend.

It is also why dying is conversion into nothing and yet everything.  The consciousness moves on, but the flesh is just matter and it remains in the universe to become part of something new.  There are as many atoms in the body as there are stars in the night sky.  The potential exists to become plant, animal, mineral, or perhaps simply energy. Or all of those things at once.

So you see, when a wave function collapses for a human it is not death, it is transformation.  It is just another process that happens continuously. 

It has become insignificant to us.

***

There is another boy we watch simultaneously.  He sits at a piano in Canada and tries not to cry.  His music instructor has told him that while his playing is very good, he lacks the passion to make it truly excellent.

He decides that he has reached a fork in the road and must choose whether to continue with his musical education or to focus his considerable talents elsewhere.  He weighs the pros and cons of both choices and finds that they balance each other out.  Instead he removes a twenty sided die from the pocket of his trousers and vows to abide by whatever decision the rolling of the die gives him.  He makes determinism out of probability.

We wish we could tell him that this is a mistake!  Though his mechanism of choice has more sides than the coin another man tosses at the same moment elsewhere in the multiverse, he has still split his options into a binary.  How can this boy, this exceptionally bright boy who has a better understanding of the mathematics of probability and statistics than the teachers at the schools he is swiftly outgrowing not see that as a human his shape can change and morph.  He does not have to fall to one side or another as the icosahedron he rolls must. 

Since he was told his playing is insufficient, he lets the deciding factor in his binary be whether the number that turns up is prime or not prime.  A prime number is not factorable by any whole integers.  This is interpreted to mean that he will only ever be a technically skilled player and thus it is not worth his time to be so criticized for the rest of his life.  We wish he could know that to us it is not a criticism.  His instructor cannot hear what the boy hears, or what we hear, when he plays.  His technical proficiency allows the notes to achieve their purest harmonies without muddied frequencies.  It is utterly beautiful and there is emotion aplenty in such perfect playing.

If he rolls a non-prime number it will show, the boy has determined, that his playing can be factored into both proficiency and passion.  Knowing that he already possessed the former he could set out to master the latter, not understanding that passion is not about mastery, but rather freedom.  We want to tell him that with his changeability and intellect he can do so much better.  He can ride the edge between two sides and find a balance point. 

He, in the moment before he releases the die, has the potential to be greater than either side.  His probabilities are numerous.

The boy ignores the fact that his chosen binary for this twenty sided die is inherently weighted in favor of his keeping on with his playing.  It says much about him and where he finds joy in life.

The die is cast.

The distribution narrows.

There is a moment before the icosahedron comes to rest that it hovers on one vertex.  For just an instant the probabilities blur and the child decides to give up serious lessons, but vows to continue playing for himself because he genuinely enjoys it.  He marvels in the striking of each key which propels a small hammer to hit carefully tuned strings which vibrate to produce pure tones.  Each note struck in prescribed combinations and in a particular order intertwines and blends together to create music.  It is almost like a reversal of entropy in his mind, creating structured order out of disparate notes. When he closes his eyes it is as though he can see the weaving frequencies stretching out into the universe.  The idea of propagating sound waves makes him think of light and that in turn fills his head with visions of shining stars and spiraling galaxies making their own music in the immensity of space.

His music makes him dream of the universe and inspires him to study the stars.

This reality stretches pleasantly in front of us and it is easy to linger over it to see what becomes of this brilliant boy.  As he grows we see how his music becomes integral to his science.  He wonders about the harmonics of the universe and what resonance, vibration, and superposition do on a cosmic scale.  He gets fascinated by what Earth humans in this universe call M-Theory, a form of string theory, and we know as a way of looking at the universe that is just shy of the true Unification Theory.  He is the closest anyone in this reality will come to discovering the Grand Unified Theory that so many seek for several centuries yet to come.

It is interesting to note how the influence of music in his life changes the character of the boy as he matures.  He is softer somehow.  No less brilliant, simply less inclined to shout the fact of his intelligence to all the world.  He listens to his colleagues and subordinates with respect and consideration more often than not, and points out their mistakes and errors in thinking with grace for the most part.  He does not create enemies within the space of speaking a single sentence in a condescending tone of voice.

As such, he is not sent to Siberia.  Instead, he becomes instrumental in the Stargate program.  When he gets to the Pegasus Galaxy he composes a piece for piano to be played in one specific room in the city of Atlantis that is built of such angles and materials as to make the acoustics unlike anything ever heard in the rest of the universe.  Due to his importance to the expedition and how well liked he is by the majority of the SGC command staff, he is granted the luxurious request of a grand piano.  His playing echoes through the corridors of Atlantis and moves people to tears and others to deep contemplation.  The city he defends and protects with every ounce of knowledge and cunning he possesses infuses his technically proficient playing with all the passion he was once told he lacked.

When the die falls we reluctantly move away from this future as the probability density for this universe diminishes.

Meredith Rodney McKay has rolled a seven.  Seven is prime.

He gets up from the piano bench and walks away.  He does not look back.

***

There is a concept inherent in the very existence of the universe that our descendants took millennia to discover: in the nature of things the present cannot be completely described, therefore a future cannot be determined based on the present.  The universe is not a simple system in which human beings are little machines whose operations are fully determined by forces and motion.  In the type of science that Rodney McKay knows as quantum mechanics there is a fundamental Uncertainty Principle: At a certain scale, you cannot know both a particle’s position and momentum.

Essentially this is a form of ontological cheating.  For example, an electron’s very being, like that of a human’s, is to show itself as either a particle or a wave, but never both at the same time.  That is to say, beings that know they are being watched change their behavior.  You cannot observe reality without changing it.  This has also been called complementarity.  Some macroscopic objects merely look different depending on how you view them, but quantum phenomena, and by extension the wave forms that are beings, _become_ different objects.

The randomness we see in the universe is closely linked to uncertainty.  If we were to think of a particle not as a point-like object in space but rather as a wave packet we can see that the uncertainty exists within that packet between position and momentum.  Still the packet moves forward along its path through space-time with no uncertainty.  The randomness comes from the fact that the resulting wave is not a particle, but merely the probability of seeing a particle at a designated time and place.  Probabilities are not definitive.

We were well aware of these facts when we still existed on a corporeal plane, but since we have Ascended they have become central to our way of being.  There is nothing to actually stop us from influencing the lives of the humans we watch, but in doing so we quickly realized how much we gained and how much more we lost.  There was power to be had from the human’s knowledge and belief in us and our abilities to alter their reality, but everything became flat.  Boring.  The probability distributions ceased to have significance.  The randomness disappeared.  There was nothing to give flavor to our existence anymore.

Thus the ban on interacting with those on the mortal plane we chose to leave.

But we are often tempted.

***

When Teyla and the people of Athos are the new variables introduced to the equation there is no coin tossed, no roll of the dice, no other type of random outcome generator consulted.  There are simply the probabilities.

The wave functions for Sheppard and Teyla converge and diverge in myriad ways and it is difficult to see what either of them will choose at any point in their possible alliance.  Teyla starts them down one path by choosing to welcome a group of travelers who do not seem to have a great deal of knowledge about the galaxy they live in, nor a great deal of respect for the ways of her people.

We watch as she and Sheppard play a tense game of words around the blustering of Colonel Sumner.  We can see in her eyes how she weighs the advantages and disadvantages of striking an alliance with the people who say they are from the City of the Ancestors.  It is apparent to us that Teyla is the leader of the people of Athos because she sees her world almost as we do.  She can picture the possible futures even if she has no direct knowledge of them.

Teyla chooses to ally herself and her people with Sheppard and the strength he has shown at his command.  She sincerely hopes that the rest of the people of Atlantis are more like Sheppard than they are Sumner, otherwise her people may lose what little pride and dignity they have left.  With this choice she has changed the probabilities for all her people as well as those for the new inhabitants of Atlantis.  Suddenly the probability densities are weighted more heavily in the areas where the expedition survives and even thrives.

Of course this is no guarantee.  Teyla has chosen Sheppard, but Sheppard must also choose Teyla.

The Athosian leader is taken by the Wraith and wave functions start rapidly tending toward collapse.  Sheppard has a narrow window of time in which to make a crucial decision about going after Teyla, Sumner, and Toran before the probability densities for all three of them reach unity.

We know the risks, we can see the universes where Sheppard goes on the rescue mission and is met with death in a hundred different ways.  We know that is it pointless to try to recover someone the Wraith have culled.  The distribution for Sheppard’s rescue mission has very few density spikes with positive outcomes.

Yet, we also see a reality that exists side by side with all of these where he does not attempt to recover Teyla and Sumner.  By giving up on Teyla, Sheppard and the expedition lose the trust of the Athosians which is more costly than they realize.  Without Teyla they are deprived of someone who has first-hand knowledge with the different planets and cultures of the Pegasus Galaxy, the local flora and fauna that sustain life, her tact and skill at negotiating.  In the universes where she does not join the expedition or dies before she has the chance, the people of Atlantis run dangerously low on food before they can establish contact with Earth.  Without Teyla to vouch for the peaceful and exploratory nature of Sheppard and his team, they have a difficult time finding people willing to trade with them.  There is no supplemental crop on the mainland partly because there are no Athosians to tend it and partly because they do not know what can be easily grown and safely eaten that is native to the galaxy.  Before the expedition left Earth, it was decided that they wouldn’t bring any Earth crops because of the dangers of contaminating the native environment.  This decision comes to be regarded as foolish and negligent, but there is nothing to be done save starve. 

It is unfortunate, but this is the most likely future.  The probability distribution shows that there are nearly too many obstacles to overcome in order to allow both Sheppard and Teyla Emmagan to survive their first combined encounter with the Wraith.

Still, as we wait for Sheppard to make his decision and for Weir to give her approval, the wave functions have not yet all collapsed and miniscule though the probability for success is, it nevertheless exists.

Perhaps we should know by now from watching the rest of his life from beginning to end in countless universes simultaneously that Sheppard has a tendency to manipulate the odds in his favor.

We watch in amazement as the momentary superposition of the wave equations of Sheppard and Teyla create something immense and strong before they separate again and a reality solidifies.  Both of the humans survive at the cost of waking of tens of thousands of hungry Wraith. 

The two of them live, Atlantis lives, and all across the galaxy thousands more humans die.  Sheppard defies the odds and in doing so a powerful ripple of change moves through the probabilities of everyone who inhabits the Pegasus Galaxy.  To see so many collapsing wave functions at once is mildly startling, but it is not altogether unexpected.  The Wraith are merciless and they dominate more than one universe.

Ultimately we are pleased that despite the distributions for the futures from this moment and despite the probabilities for the mission itself, John Sheppard manifested the randomness and uncertainty inherent in the workings of the universe and chose Teyla.

***

In Atlantis, a man lies on a narrow bed listening.  His eyes are closed, his brow furrowed, his body tense.  In his hand a small silver coin turns over and over.  It does not fly through the air, nor will it.  Not this time.  Still, he is drawn to the simplicity of decision making that the coin represents.

The decision that rests before him is a weighty one with great consequences for both himself and his colleagues in the city.  We can see how the spikes in the probability densities are in wildly divergent directions.  Given this momentous occasion, we watch closely, but we do not interfere.  We cannot.

The man Sheppard listens intently and with no small amount of sorrow.  He hears the plaintive cries of Atlantis herself.  Though we cannot hear them, we can imagine it.  We created the city after all, we should know her pain, but we do not.  Not truly.  We can only watch as Sheppard hears what 10,000 years of abandonment has done to our floating city.

This is where the question comes in.  Does he tell Rodney McKay that he can hear the city?  Does he describe how Atlantis wistfully calls to him to do more, _be_ more?  Should he mention how she wants him to touch every wall, open every door, walk every hall?  Is it worth telling McKay that each time he sits in the command chair he gets entangled a little deeper with the city and it is harder and harder to convince Atlantis to let him go?

We know from watching Sheppard as he wanders the corridors late into the night that the sounds of the city often fill him with sadness.  Atlantis hurts so much from loneliness.  Yet he is afraid that if he tells McKay he will lose this link entirely.  While that would be helpful to him in some ways, he knows it will make it so much worse for the city.  He cannot imagine Atlantis as something that is merely cold circuits and crystals.  She has an intelligence, a _feel_ to her that he cannot describe.  He knows only that she is so much more than a floating or even a flying city.  He has no desire to abandon her, but her cries are breaking his heart.  He turns the coin over and over in his hand and considers what could happen.  He knows he cannot leave this to chance.

Every time that Sheppard thinks on this question – and he has done so many times over the years he has lived in Atlantis – we have been fascinated by how he suddenly seems to be able to see the various possible futures almost as well as we can.  Though the coin is not in the air, the probabilities revolve, expand, and fall away just the same. 

There is a universe of sufficient probability that we try not to watch because it is so…disappointing.  This is the reality where Sheppard confesses to the Chief Science Officer and his closest friend that he has been hearing Atlantis in his head for years and he can no longer stand the sound of her suffering.  After a week of research and experimentation, clever McKay finds a way to silence the voice of Atlantis in John Sheppard’s head without severing their all-important link completely.  In fact, it severs the fainter links to the other gene carriers that were like tiny lights in her awareness as well.  At first the city does not seem to understand what is happening, and in her need to capture Sheppard’s attention she acts out.  Doors lock unexpectedly, power surges overload circuits, lights flare on and off. 

It does not work.

Sheppard caresses the gently curving walls and apologizes, but it is meaningless to Atlantis.  She cannot understand what he is trying to tell her.  It is like being abandoned again only worse.  She watches Sheppard constantly to find an explanation for his behavior, while Atlantis herself has become almost invisible to the one person she wants most to see her.

We hate to see our beloved city so bewildered and desolate.  She was meant to be a shining jewel among the stars and instead she begins to wither.  With so little power from the Zero Point Modules and no one to interact with, the city essentially loses the will to live.

When Sheppard has a need to sit in the command chair Atlantis is slow to do his bidding.  Even when they are fully connected like this something is not the same.  Sheppard knows it, he even suspects the reason why and feels guilty.  Even so, he does not ask McKay to remove the block in their link.  He is unable to handle the immensity of Atlantis’ pain and it fills him with shame.  Each time he gets in the chair she welcomes him less and less.  Instead of a warm embrace of invitation, her presence in Sheppard’s mind savors strongly of bitterness.  She becomes naught but ruthless efficiency with no regard for her own well-being nor that of any of her inhabitants.

In the universe where Sheppard tells McKay about the grief he feels from their adopted home, Atlantis dies a death more complete and more terrible than any that would merely result in her resting in pieces on the ocean floor.

In our desire to alter the probability distribution that gives rise to this universe, we long to remind Sheppard that he also feels when Atlantis is jubilant and proud.  She shows herself to be coy, mischievous, and remarkably ingenious.  She makes sacrifices to aid her new inhabitants and lends them what strength she can, even when she is running at minimum capacity.  Though there is not artificial intelligence originally coded into the systems of Atlantis, she contains hundreds of programs designed to learn and grow, to change based on interactions.  For all intents and purposes Atlantis developed a personality just as any child does.  She simply craves attention.  She takes great pleasure in showing Sheppard new parts of the city or new bits of technology and watching as he delights in her many offerings and showers the city in praise.  

She may have slumbered for thousands of years, but there were subroutines constantly running for her own protection.  We cannot help but wonder what 10,000 years trapped alone would do to such a complicated, nearly organic piece of programming.  It is no surprise that between Atlantis’ moments of joy and laughter, she screams.

As the man lies on his bed he imagines a future not too different from what this wretched universe turns out to be.  The coin, now warm from his hand, turns again in his palm and he pictures another future for himself and Atlantis.

We see that possibility as well.  The probability density for a prosperous Atlantis is high and it is a much more appealing direction in which to focus our attention.  We know that the city has the potential to be great, and not just because we built and once inhabited it, but because of our descendants who live there now and have such different priorities from ours.  With John Sheppard to coax Atlantis into slowly healing herself, she shows them ways to make the city run more efficiently with less power.  She opens pathways that were sealed off and areas of the city that are meant for manufacture of various types of gadgets, from personal shields to gateships. 

With this new knowledge of the city and her full support in the form of images she plants in his mind when he sits in the command chair, Sheppard proposes a radical change in the way Atlantis is run.  Since they occupy so little of the city he wants to bring in more people from all across the galaxy.  He suggests that the city can be a refuge, a bustling trade post, a cultural center, a place of learning and invention, an archive for all of Pegasus.  It can be a beacon of hope in a galaxy ravaged by the hunger of the Wraith.  Secretly Sheppard reasons that the humans of the Pegasus galaxy are also descendants of the Ancients and accordingly some of them must also possess the ATA gene.  He knows instinctively that the more people Atlantis can learn from and communicate with the happier and more efficient she will be.

This version of Atlantis is still far off from the point at which we currently watch John Sheppard, and as every moment brings about changes in the probability distributions for Sheppard and Atlantis there is no guarantee that they will arrive here.  We know only that the probability for it exists.  The beginning step on the path to that universe, however, is Sheppard making a choice.

It is with great interest then that we watch as Sheppard weighs his options.  The coin in his hand stops its endless slow rotation and he gazes at it with unfocused eyes.  He does not see whatever shape is embossed on its surface, he only hears the cry of the city he calls home.

He will not abandon her.

Sheppard shoves the coin under his pillow and finds confidence in his decision.  The probabilities shift.

The plaintive keening of Atlantis grows softer in his head and changes just slightly in pitch to something more melodious as if to say, “Thank you.”

***

In the study of wave mechanics there is a phenomenon called superposition.  When one or more waves interact, the resulting wave is some new combination of these original waves depending on how the peaks and valleys correspond. The same is true of how electrons or light interact.  A stream of single electrons passing through a barrier with two slits in it will create an interference pattern of alternating bars of light and dark in the manner of a diffracting wave.  The differing intensities of the bands show how the waves superposed, or the probability of where an electron will be found.  It is a beautiful example of the dual nature of many quantum phenomena.

It is also an apt description of how we observe our descendants.  Each person is like an individual particle, yet they propagate through time with the probabilities of a wave.

Even though all things are occurring for us simultaneously, we frequently get caught up in watching isolated people or events.  Some parts of the universe call more insistently for our attention so we narrow our focus to see how significant events unfold across the multiverse.  When we examine the wave function for just one person and take note of how the distribution takes shape, we sometimes forget that the probability for any given reality is closely tied into the probabilities of everyone with whom that person interacts.

When alliances are forged or enemies made, the wave equations superpose to create a new set of probability distributions.  Some possible futures become more likely, some less, others are cancelled out of existence.  The different universes that are born at the cusp of a choice can be viewed as an interference pattern when all of the probabilities are lain one on top of the other in superposition.  The brightest are the most likely realities to solidify, but the others which vary in intensity as you move away from the center are still valid possibilities.  Only the dark bands show where there might have been a universe if the wave functions of one, two, or any number people were removed from or added to the sum that created the interference pattern.

Due to this interconnectedness of all things, even minor choices and small acts of randomness can have vast effects on the overall shape of the probability distribution for a group of people or even an entire galaxy’s worth.

***

On a planet in the Pegasus Galaxy that has an extremely high daytime ultraviolet index, a man holds two unconscious captives in a cave.  It has been a long time since he has come across anyone who wasn’t a Wraith that had weapons to rival those of Sateda’s recent past.  He is unsure what to do with these two, a man and a woman each equally armed.  On the one hand, he can use them as bait for the Wraith that hunt him, on the other he can take what useful tools and information they have and move on.  Or he could kill them outright and be done with it.

Even after speaking with them and he learns that they can successfully remove his tracker, Ronon Dex is uncertain as to what to believe or how to treat them.  He does not have a coin, no set of dice, not even the rune stones some of the more superstitious among his people would consult for advice.  All he considers is how best he can stay alive and ahead of the Wraith. 

The probability distribution for Ronon Dex is of a type that we rarely see.  His path is truly unpredictable and veers off in so many different directions that we can easily get lost just watching the universes that he inhabits.  The probability densities for his many possible futures are within such a close tolerance of one another, that they may as well all be equally weighted.  It is easy to see how this characteristic to follow no patterns, to react on gut instinct, to embody randomness in his daily movements has made him a successful Runner for so many years.  He has learned to manipulate the base workings of the universe to his advantage in ways that even Sheppard has not figured out.

Even if we did not already watch this man for his own sake, we would watch him now as his wave function comes into contact with those of Sheppard, Teyla, and McKay.  The superposition of their equations is stunning.  The lows in the wave form are extremely low, while the peaks are glorious.  There are density spikes in so many directions that it is difficult to see all the universes they represent simultaneously. Their probabilities are hopelessly entangled from the point of this meeting both forward and backward in all of their time streams.  What Ronon does at this moment affects the advice that Teyla gives Sheppard.  That advice in turn changes how Sheppard reacts to Ronon which affects whether or not McKay survives the day.  And then again, at a future time when something reminds her of the incident with Ronon, Teyla will make another comment that will spin a whole new set of probabilities.

This entanglement is another aspect inherent in the multiverse, it is partly why the probabilities are always changing.  What happens here in this moment instantly impacts what happens elsewhere, no matter the distance.

To see a man with so many options before him always rippling and changing, yet always entangled with these three other humans is…curious.  Due to the way the densities are almost evenly distributed we can see that the fact of entanglement for these four does not always benefit all parties involved.

In some realities Ronon chooses not to weaken himself under the blade of people he does not know even for the sake of removing his tracking device.  He has learned over his years of running not to trust the benevolence of strangers.  Instead he leaves Teyla and Sheppard as bait for the Wraith so that he can make his escape through the stargate.  He does not tie them as securely as he knows how so that they have a fighting chance when the Wraith come, he means only to buy himself time.  With this mindset and by staying always on the move Ronon continues to live his life as a Runner.  He comes into contact with Sheppard and his team every so often and each time denies their offer of medical aide, but he fights beside them when it is necessary.  He is good at this life, difficult as it is, but the Wraith are waking by the thousands.  The longest he makes it on his own in any universe before he is overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of the ravenous Wraith is two years.

He does not always remain alone, however.  Even if he does refuse the help of the Atlanteans, he is forced to accept a helping hand from the Genii in at least three separate possible universes.  From our perspective, this version of life for Ronon is not so different from the life he leads when he joins with Sheppard and his people.  The outline of the society of Earth and that of the Genii are similar in many respects including their tendencies for deception, violence, and to use scientific knowledge for gain and destruction.  The main difference is that the Genii civilization is born and fostered under the threat of the Wraith and that of Earth is not. This leads to some disparities in how each society approaches trust and building alliances.  Either way, what is wanted of Ronon is someone who is willing to share his knowledge of the Pegasus Galaxy and a willing fighter.

The Genii remove his tracker and with it his ever present need to look over his shoulder for the Wraith that hunt him.  When they tell him that in payment for this service he will be their loyal soldier, Ronon does not disagree.  He knows how to be a soldier and as long as the Genii fight the Wraith then he will fight for them since Sateda is no more.  The probability that he meets Sheppard and his team in combat is high, they are entangled after all, but there exist further probabilities that say he will either remain with the Genii, desert and go his own way, or seek asylum on Atlantis.  His desire to regain his own sense of agency in his life is a driving force behind many of his decisions, yet he still considers the consequences.

But what of the parts of the distribution that show Ronon deciding to trust the word of two strangers and accept their offer of aide in exchange for assistance in tracking down one man stuck planetside?  The superposition of the wave functions from this point create such universes of varying probabilities as to dazzle us.  Suddenly a reality we could only dream of blooms into existence.

With Ronon on their side, the new inhabitants of Atlantis gain a valuable source of knowledge about parts of the galaxy the others have never seen. He stands with them in battle and forms bonds of trust and loyalty that might otherwise have taken years to form.  He comes to be a brother to Sheppard more completely than Lieutenant Ford could ever be.  He represents the might and resistance of the Pegasus Galaxy just as Teyla Emmagan represents the compassion and strength of the people. Together the team of Ronon, Teyla, Sheppard, McKay, and hundreds more who reside on Atlantis with all of their combined knowledge of the ways of the Pegasus Galaxy, their commitment to fight the oppression of the Wraith, and their growing familiarity with our old technology – with all of this they are able to rally the people of Pegasus to stand against their most hated enemy.

There exists a universe in which our descendants achieve what we could not: victory over the Wraith.

It is astounding how the wave function for just one person can have such profound effects on so many people when combined in just the right way with an already existing ensemble of equations.  For someone who spends so much of his life trapped by a small piece of technology in his back, someone whose every choice diverges into universes of near even probability, Ronon Dex possesses within his possible futures the most likely path to freedom.

When Ronon leaves the planet in Sheppard’s company to take up residence in Atlantis we cannot ignore how the new interference pattern for all of the wave forms of the Atlanteans is altered.  The band that shows Lieutenant Ford’s place with the expedition grows extremely faint.  We can only shake our heads at the necessary change of probabilities.  The way Ronon is entangled with all of these people means that his choices now must change the probabilities for others elsewhere.  Atlantis is on a new path.

***

Rodney McKay walks briskly through the corridors of Atlantis seeing problems and solving them just as quickly.  His mind has been enhanced by a device we left behind that was meant to aid in Ascension.  He is exuberant in his newfound abilities, but that is only because at this moment in his timeline, he does not know that his wave function has become nearly flat, not quite yet hovering at one.

In fact, the distribution for McKay in this instance has three density spikes, but two are much larger than the third.  We see these two universes as they split into being: one in which McKay dies, and one in which he Ascends.

Both universes start with the same path.  McKay realizes that he has a limited amount of life left to him, so he chooses to spend much of it on intellectual pursuits and the rest on personal interactions with those in Atlantis who mean the most to him.  It is almost strange to watch him in these moments.  He is both himself, and a faint echo of a Rodney McKay that exists in other universes where different probabilities reign.  He does selfless things for the members of his team.  He uses his new understanding of how the universe works to interconvert energy and matter to heal his friends.  He asks for and accepts help from Sheppard to learn to quiet his mind.

His body begins to shut down. He can no longer manage thermoregulation in his core.  Autonomic processes cease to function.  The point of divergence is upon him.  Ascension or death.  The wave function divides into its component potential futures.

In the easier, more pleasant of the two, McKay finally manages to quiet his mind and he Ascends to join us.  It is a relief to some of us who have watched him so diligently.  His mind is so bright, his energy immense.  Ascension is good for him.  It answers most of his questions about the universe and inspires many more.  We can easily see from this universe that as someone who craves knowledge of everything, Ascension is the ideal end path for him.  His friends and colleagues know that he will continue to exist in a higher form and Sheppard, who has read a good portion of SG-1’s reports, even holds on to the idea that he could de-Ascend someday.  On some level all of the humans present for McKay’s Ascension acknowledge that it is not death, but transformation. 

McKay’s corporeal death when he does not achieve Ascension is a disaster for his companions.  The loss of his mind is more tragic still.  Nevertheless, this death is part of the usual cycle for our descendants, so it stirs nothing in us save an infinitesimal twinge of disappointment.  Before the probabilities changed, there was a profusion of universes in which McKay is happy, essential to the advancement of science among his people, a much more agreeable person, and a hero of Atlantis.  Instead, those who dwell in the city after his death stumble without his brilliance, but eventually they pick themselves back up.  It is only Sheppard who remains lost in his grief for his best friend, which causes his distribution to begin to lose its wave like shape and tend toward unity.

In either case the universe moves on.

These two futures have such strong probabilities that we almost fail to see and examine what the final density spike has to offer.  It is an oversight on our part to make such assumptions.  Of course, we already know that this third reality, with its barely there probability, is the one that takes precedence.

It is surprising.  This is the randomness, the uncertainty that rules the workings of the universes.  Given the distribution, this reality is not heavily favored, yet it remains valid.  We simply would not have thought to look for a way to stop the process, nor would we have asked for help to do it as this human has.  Ascension was all that drove us for so long that to stop the process at the very moment of success is unthinkable.  Hence why we first overlooked the universe where McKay sees how to save himself and asks his friends for assistance.

When we step back from observing this incident it is with some small astonishment.  Two highly probable universes fall away and one solidifies as the wave form continues on.  McKay lives on in Atlantis and entirely new and intriguing probability distributions begin to form in the wake of this random act of finding an unseen answer to what appeared to be a binary choice.

***     

There is a famous thought experiment among our descendants on Earth involving a cat, a box, radioactive decay, and poison.  Essentially the cat is said to be both alive and dead simultaneously – in the way that an unobserved electron may exist in all its possible states at once – until someone opens the box to note the condition of its occupant.  While the box remains closed, the wave function for the cat contains within it the probabilities for both life and death.  This example is viewed as somewhat ridiculous by the coterie of scientists who are around when it is originated, and for good reason.  From their point of view a cat is a classical object and is not governed by the laws of quantum theory, making the comparison somewhat absurd.  We know, however that it is a matter of perspective.  As Ascended beings, our descendants appear to us almost as quantum phenomena do to them.

It is interesting how important scale is to our understanding of the universe.  Each level of knowledge is built upon the one that comes before it.  At an atomic level nothing is certain, everything is merely a set of probabilities, yet the laws governing the interactions of these particles are strictly upheld within their framework.  At the “classical” level, when we look at a ball resting on a field we can say with determination that it will not move until acted upon by an external force.  When that force appears in the guise of a foot, we can take a measure of its mass and acceleration as well as the angle of application and know how the ball will act in response. This is a simple matter of cause and effect.  We can take a further step back to look at the motion of stars, galaxies, and all of the light they produce and see on a cosmic scale how the meaning of time changes relative to the observer.  Still, even at this scale, laws of gravitation and motion determine how such things as systems of planets move.  Fall back a once more to where we exist and time no longer has any meaning and causality disappears.

We come full circle to return to our base understanding of how the multiverse operates: probability distributions that take into account randomness and uncertainty.  If the same subatomic laws apply, does this mean we have defined the shape of the lives of our descendants simply by watching?  Even if we do not interfere, are wave functions collapsing without our knowledge merely because we observe how the probabilities play out in the plane we left behind?  We cannot know that we have not ruled out some form of reality for our descendants because we only have the one way of watching them.  This does not mean that we _create_ reality for countless beings, only that we cannot separate the things we see from the way in which we see them.

What shape might Sheppard, McKay, Teyla, and Ronon take if we did not pick their lives out of the limitless number of others throughout existence to focus on and observe?  And when we break the rules and interfere, when we change how the probabilities line up, is the resulting reality any less real for those who live it?

We are inclined to think that, with the probabilities being what they are, the occasional intervention on our descendants’ behalf does not make much of a dent in the overall silhouette of the universe.  Individual consequences can vary from a change in the spread of the distribution to a long distant calamity to their wave equation suddenly collapsing to unity.  The way groups of people become entangled means that there will still be a rippling effect throughout the universe.  When we look at the whole of everything, however, these alterations usually have little effect.  As long as we do not make a habit of it, so as not to remove the interest of the random acts of humankind, surely one or two small changes within the bounds of probability are justified. 

From our perspective the coin is always turning, the die always rolling, the wave functions always recombining in new ways. 

Sometimes the revolving probabilities, the indeterminacy, becomes untenable for us.  We know the shape of the multiverse and the place our descendants have in it, we know we are above the workings of the mortal plane, we know we should not care.  But there are some people we watch that have a chance to open up realities of such wondrous splendor yet such low probability that we make the forbidden choice.  We intercede.

Given all that we have the ability to see, sometimes we do know the better course.  Sometimes bringing a reality that might not have otherwise existed into being is an overall benefit.

Sometimes we are selfish.

***

When Sheppard tosses the coin to see if the time has come to divulge his last big secret to McKay we intervene.  It is prohibited yet we cannot help it.  We have grown fond of these two beings who steal so much of our focus with the vitality of their minds.  It does not seem right that the toss of a coin should determine so much. 

The coin turns.

The probabilities shuffle.

At the last moment of revolution we nudge the coin.  Just a light brush.  Enough that it misses Sheppard’s hand and lands in the soft cradle of the sheets on his bed.

Sheppard looks at his fallen coin and barks out a laugh.  We would smile if we could, for the small metal disc balances perfectly on its edge.  Neither heads nor tails.

And this is _right_.  This is what the distribution implies.  An almost even probability that he will go to McKay and make his feelings known or he will not and instead continue on as he always has.  Alone.

In both realities McKay ends up happy, either with Sheppard or with the medic Jennifer Keller.  Both of them have a calm, settling effect on him that makes his presence that much more bearable for everyone else around him.  It is similar to how he is in the universes where he continues his musical pursuits.  A little softer around the edges, less ego, fewer insecurities.  The distributions show for both cases that it is likely that McKay will only be driven to further brilliance.

In only one reality is Sheppard satisfied.  In the other he remains close friends with McKay, but their relationship alters slightly.  He pulls away to a safe distance in small increments so that McKay does not notice.  While Sheppard protects himself from his own choices, McKay continues on blithely happy with Dr. Keller at his side. Atlantis echoes Sheppard’s loneliness back at him and he decides that he will dedicate more time to caring for the city so that they do not both have to feel abandoned.  He resolves to find solace in the fact that McKay is so abundantly pleased with the state of his personal life.

In the universe where Sheppard decides to take the risk, he wonders just how to go about revealing to McKay that the way they make each other spark fills him with longing.  His problem is solved when the man in question arrives at his door with a well-used chess set.  Sheppard agrees to a game and it is with calculated precision that he makes careful moves on McKay as he slowly plays his way across the board.  Sheppard’s movements are simultaneously languid and seductive.  He sits as if making an offer to the other man, while his eyes move over McKay in an unmistakable manner and he unconsciously bites his lower lip.  McKay, on the other hand, is leaning closer and closer to his temporary opponent, hands unknowingly drifting nearer to Sheppard’s lingering fingertips.  McKay plays a bad game in his distraction, as does Sheppard who nevertheless wins the contest, but then he has always had a better understanding of how to maneuver his pieces on the board.  Perhaps it can be said that Sheppard has better success at the game being played between himself and McKay which has nothing to do with the rooks and pawns in front of them.

It is fascinating to watch them use their corporeal forms in this way, these two who live so much in the vibrancy of their minds. They create so much electricity between them that we can almost feel it in the air.  It is easy to forget that for them this sort of interaction still has meaning and purpose.  We are usually uninterested in purely corporeal matters, especially when the probabilities show they are largely inevitable events.  But we have broken the rules to give these two an opportunity and so, we observe.

When they move to clean up the remains of the game McKay cannot control his nerves and the pieces scatter to the floor.  Before he can bend down to pick them up, Sheppard puts a hand on his wrist and stops him.

“Rodney,” he says with a hitch in his breath.

Their eyes meet.  Hazel and blue.  An understanding passes.  Pupils dilate.

Mouths finally crash together while bodies entangle.

For all their corporeal lust they do not see what makes their union so luminescent.  Their minds are each aglow, feeding off one another, trading energy. 

Atlantis rejoices that her favored son has found such happiness and shows her joy in a brief flare of lights, an unlocking of previously shut doors, the powering up of a device long dormant in the lowest levels of the heart of the city.

In such a reality both John Sheppard and Rodney McKay are so happily distracted by their own passions that it is several hours before they learn that a massive energy spike has been noted in an unexplored part of the city. 

“The readings, Rodney,” says an excited Radek Zelenka, “They either mean something very, very bad, or are the answer to our prayers.”

Sheppard and his team are sent to find out what Atlantis has uncovered in the power surge that only he and McKay know the source of.

It turns out to be a small room built for a single purpose and to us it is completely devoid of interest.  We know how it works and what it does.  We created it after all.  It merits all the attention of a storage closet.  We would pull back from this moment in this universe and look elsewhere, but after all this time we are curious about how these humans will react.

Within a couple of seconds of examining the room McKay understands what the specially built chamber can house, and what the consoles around it are meant to control.  In the space of a few quickly made deductions he sees how this room is designed to harness subspace vacuum energy to an intricately constructed crystal matrix.

It is the room where Zero Point Modules are made.

Sheppard and his team shout with joy.  McKay is caught somewhere between crying and laughing when he pulls Sheppard to him with wild abandon and kisses him fiercely.

But before this future can solidify, Sheppard exists in the moment where the coin rests on its edge and his wave function appears to split momentarily into two parallel paths.  We can give the probability of both, it is easy, they are equal, but we don’t know which will happen.  For all that we can see the distributions and interpret the probability densities, there is still an element of randomness to how the universes operate or how life plays out.  Nothing is truly fixed.  Nothing can be accurately predicted with 100% certainty.  In order to observe this plane of existence we gave up the perfect knowledge of how it moves.  There is only what is most likely to come to pass and least likely to happen, but that does not mean reality always falls in favor of the higher average. 

Though the pairing of McKay and Sheppard seems inevitable in some universes, it is not.  In this instance a stalemate of sorts must be broken before a new range of superposed distributions will unfurl, the probability densities for which imply how easily the two could come together.  Yet it is no guarantee.

This uncertainty is why John Sheppard tosses the coin. To absolve himself of responsibility.  We have taken away that comfort.  It was wrong, we know, but this choice has strangely intriguing consequences.  Our descendants are clever, but we know that the universes in which these two move forward together are richer in both life and meaning. Doubly so when they remain in Atlantis where she can look after them. 

We acted to make sure that Sheppard’s own act of randomness, his gut decision, will remove some of the chances of his wave function collapsing in on itself due to a subconscious sense that he was forced onto a single path.  We acted because we have come to believe that John Sheppard deserves companionship and happiness.  If we decide how Sheppard should be happy we determine that he will be happy, and that is not allowed.  The probabilities evaporate and the wave function breaks down entirely.  If we interfere in such a direct way, then we change the entire nature of the question being asked, instead we make only this small alteration to the revolving coin.

In our selfishness, we have arranged the distribution as optimally as possible to let Sheppard make a balanced choice.  Now all he must do is choose and act and his new reality will bloom before him.

We hope he will choose his own happiness.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Auguries of Innocence" by William Blake
> 
> I've been reading a lot about the influence of the Quantum Revolution of the early 20th Century on social culture and my brain started spinning. Feel free to leave comments, questions, or concerns!


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